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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630539">Broom Cupboard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oonaseckar/pseuds/oonaseckar'>oonaseckar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Suits (US TV), スーツ | Suits (Japan TV), 슈츠 | SUITS (Korea TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dinosaurs, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Museums, Road Trips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:40:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oonaseckar/pseuds/oonaseckar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike and Harvey, on a road trip.  Strictly business, of course.  Until they find themselves hiding in a small-town museum utilities room.  And then locked in the museum, overnight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mike Ross &amp; Harvey Specter, Mike Ross/Harvey Specter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. proximity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>'You ain't jest clickin' yer teeth' - it might be L.M. Montgomery, but I couldn't swear to it.</p><p>This is set somewhere in the first few episodes of Suits.  Early days.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well, it begins in a broom cupboard, at least.  A tiny cramped closet, claustrophobically packed with mops, buckets, overalls and all kinds of detergent-type gunk, a washing machine and a broken floor-buffer.  <em>And</em> Harvey.  And Mike.  It's on the upper floor of a small-town museum, in Vermont. </p><p>To explain exactly what Harvey and Mike are doing there, that would take longer.</p><p>Harvey is having a little trouble himself, explaining it to Mike.  The thing is, they shouldn't even <em>be</em> here, not really.</p><p>"We shouldn't even be here," he says.  Oh, he's always been a <em>bright boy. </em> Why else would Jessica have picked him out, way back when?  He's conscious, every moment, even as he says it, of how very close Mike is.  To him.  <em>Harvey</em>.  By necessity, of course: it's a very small cupboard, in a small museum.  And besides himself: and Mike: there's a whole lot of paraphernalia, in this densely crowded space.  </p><p><em>And</em> him.  And Mike.  Who grins at him -- as cocky as that first day, barely a month ago, when he walked into Harvey's office and -- and just <em>commandeered</em> his way into Harvey's life.  Not to mention his <em>firm</em>.  "You ain't jest clickin' yer teeth," Mike says, in response.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. conditions for intimacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>O, how did they get here?  Harvey wonders.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Which Harvey is pretty sure is a quote from somewhere, since Mike isn't <em>actually</em> Scarlett O'Hara, or any species of Southern belle.  But God-damn, how many books has the kid read?</p><p>It might leave Harvey confused, almost breathless -- if his steel-trap lawyer's brain were at all susceptible to confusion.  "Anyway, no," he says -- damn it, <em>so</em> brilliant, so lucid, he'd better note that down to use it in his address to the jury, next time he's in court.  "I mean," he stumbles on, "we shouldn't even be in this town."</p><p>"Like I don't know <em>that</em>," Mike observes -- cocky little bastard.  And his blue eyes sparkling, in the half-dark.  (The single light-bulb in this poky little cubbyhole could hardly illuminate a hamster run.  Really, the only thing he can see clear is Mike's face.</p><p>But that has been true for a while, now.  Days, at least.  Possibly even weeks.)</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. sweeter than wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's only one way out of this situation.  Can Harvey fix it?  YES HE CAN!!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter title is from a Jimmie Rodgers song.  Or the Bible, depending on how you look at it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Of course, if you'd let <em>me</em> drive..." Mike says, grinning wide.  And Harvey can't let <em>that</em> one go.</p><p>"You?  Drive the E-type?  Drive the <em>vintage E-type Jag,</em> that Dom Barone only loaned to me on pain of <em>death</em> if I got a single scratch on it?  I hope you're enjoying that dreamworld, buddy.  But if you're thinking of going into <em>court</em> with your head in the clouds like that--"  Boy, this kid needs squashing.  He needs <em>something</em>.</p><p>"Or if you'd even hired something, well, <em>not</em> about the same age as the dinosaurs downstairs in the main hall -- something with actual <em>GPS</em>, say --"  Damn.  The <em>smirk</em> on him.</p><p>Goddamn nerve.  Harvey is tempted to kiss him, just to shut him the fuck up.</p><p>Hot, sweet, fruity -- something like as if he'd been giving a vigorous workout, to a stick of Wrigley's Juicy Fruit, within the last ten minutes.  If you, or anyone had cared to ask him what he thought it would be like to kiss Mike Ross, then that is the answer Harvey Specter would have given, up until now.  Today.  This moment.</p><p>He's given the matter some thought.</p><p>Turns out, he was right.</p><p>The silence is astonishingly piercing, when he stops kissing Mike.</p><p>And he wonders, a bit, how he got himself into this situation.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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